El Camino Real’s Jackson Has Legions of Admirers
Go ahead, try to dig up dirt on Conor Jackson.
Hire a private investigator, hack your way into an FBI computer, stake out Jackson’s home in Woodland Hills, place a listening device in his locker at El Camino Real High.
All you’ll find is a 17-year-old who’s the envy of everyone he meets.
Mothers want him to date their daughters. Fathers want him to hang out with their sons. Opponents want to shake his hand. Coaches want him to help them keep their jobs.
Now, if only he could please his father by mowing the lawn.
“People seem to say he’s an all-right kid, and around here I want to kill him half the time,” John Jackson said.
Conor Jackson is destined to play baseball for many years. He’s 6 feet 4, 190 pounds, athletic, smart and dedicated. He’s coming off a junior season in which he batted .408, drove in 31 runs and committed only four errors at shortstop.
By the end of last summer, he convinced professional scouts he was among the best high school players in the nation. Baseball America rated him No. 34 among the top 100 prep prospects. California signed him to a letter of intent.
On and off the field, he’s an All-American.
“I’m not saying he’s an angel, but as far as kids go these days, he’s pretty darn close,” Coach Bob Ganssle said.
During a senior talent show, Jackson wowed the crowd by lip-syncing to the MC Hammer song “U Can’t Touch This.”
“He had the ladies screaming,” said football player Jon Graham, one of Jackson’s singing partners.
Jackson’s level of maturity and self-confidence is beyond his years. He seeks to learn from every experience, good or bad, and he’s not afraid of challenges.
Jackson’s values were shaped by his parents, John and Jana, who grew up in Austin, Texas.
“I think it’s a Texas thing,” Conor Jackson said. “It’s an attitude--treat everybody with respect. I always got yelled at or chewed out when I didn’t.”
The Jacksons moved to the West San Fernando Valley when Conor was 2 and his sister, Kate, was 4. Jana worked for a film production company and John was a high school social studies teacher until he became an actor in his late 20s.
As a teenager, John was one of the last people to meet President John F. Kennedy before his assassination in Dallas. He was a 13-year-old journalism student who greeted Kennedy at a hotel in Fort Worth on Nov. 22, 1963.
“Kennedy absolutely made you feel he was the center of your world when he shook your hand,” John said. “He was dead two hours later. I was stunned. He was the first president I ever met.
“It was a shocking experience. I was in class and my English teacher walked in, ‘Everybody put your books down and listen to the announcement.’ She was crying.”
John, 49, has become a well-known actor through his role as Admiral Chegwidden on the popular CBS drama “JAG.” But parenting is what he does best. He practices wisdom and patience. He tries not to forget the lessons from small-town America.
“My wife and I have always tried to be consistent, which is the most difficult thing to do as a parent,” John said. “It’s hard as hell to do because parents always have to bend a little bit but can’t too much.
“I can honestly say that my son is a friend of mine. That’s a hard thing to do. It’s like teaching. You want to get on good rapport with your students, but there’s a line that can’t be crossed. If you do cross it, the roles get gray and you don’t have the same ability to teach.”
One of the most trying moments for a parent is allowing a teenager to make his or her own decision, even if the parent believes it is a mistake.
Such was the case in December 1998, when Conor asked to go snowboarding on a school trip to Vail, Colo.
His parents presented the hazards of the trip, pointing out baseball season was not far away.
“You realize what the implications are, that this is a high-risk sport,” John warned.
Conor went on the trip and broke his right wrist on the last ski run of the final day.
“A skier cut me off,” he said. “I thought I was an expert snowboarder, so I tried to jump over him. I came up and did a handstand on my wrist.”
When Conor returned home, his father didn’t yell, slam doors or ground him. He allowed his son to learn a lesson.
“I was very surprised with my father’s reaction,” Conor said. “I thought I was going to get a riot act. It wasn’t. He just wanted me to know it was ‘your choice, your mistake and you have to live with it.’
“I learned I just needed to be smarter. It helped me in the long run. It [strengthened] my love for the game. It made it even stronger and more passionate. It was very hard to sit on the bench with a cast on my wrist and watch everybody play.”
The injury sidelined Jackson for 10 weeks, forcing him to miss the first two weeks of the baseball season. It was a major factor in his four-for-19 hitting slump to start the season.
“Much later on, he joked, ‘God, why did you let me go snowboarding?’ ” John said.
Another dilemma surfaced last fall. Jackson was worn out after playing baseball for six consecutive months. He was busy taking college recruiting trips, but pro scouts wanted him to play in weekend games. He was torn between wanting to please the scouts and listening to his body.
“I always had a problem saying no and my dad said, ‘You know what, you need to say no sometimes,’ ” Jackson said.
He took more than three months off and felt refreshed.
“I am out of hibernation,” he said.
Once again, father was right.
“I adore my father,” Jackson said. “Seriously, my dad has been there for me every step. He’s not the stereotypical baseball dad. He’s definitely my role model.
“He throws batting practice whenever I need it. He’s always hitting me ground balls. He just goes to the games, sits and watches. He doesn’t say a word. When I have an 0-for-2 or 0-for-3 game, he always says, ‘It’s OK, don’t worry about it.’ He’s never put me down. He’s always been there for me.”
Since he was a sophomore starter at third base for El Camino Real’s 1998 City Championship team, Jackson has been considered a can’t-miss prospect. As a junior, he switched to shortstop and surprised many with his arm strength and mobility.
By season’s end, he was the most feared hitter in the City Section. Take away the slow start and his batting average would have been close to .500.
“He has extremely quick hands and is very hard to defeat,” Ganssle said. “I think he’s one of the better ballplayers we’ve seen around, but we have quite a history of having giant-hearted, solid baseball players.”
Jackson fits the same mold of former El Camino Real standouts Ryan McGuire, Randy Wolf and Dan Cey.
Hectic days are ahead for Jackson. El Camino Real opens its season Feb. 29 against Grant. After three months of tough City Section competition, there’s the draft in June, graduation, and pro ball in the summer or college in the fall.
Jackson’s father will maintain his customary role of staying in the background, ready to offer advice when needed.
“I just hope he keeps his feet planted firmly on the ground,” John said. “Baseball is a great thing and he has a little bit of a gift a lot of people would die for. One day, that gift won’t be there anymore and he needs to know how to do other things.”
Jackson will always listen to his father--except when it comes to television.
He doesn’t watch “JAG.”
“He’s scary on TV,” Jackson said. “That’s another reason I don’t like watching him.”
Admiral Chegwidden won’t mind--as long as Conor Jackson doesn’t hit home runs against Navy.
Eric Sondheimer’s local column appears Wednesday and Sunday. He can be reached at (818) 772-3422 or eric.sondheimer@latimes.com
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Position-by-position breakdown of the region’s top players. PAGE 16
